One Who Has Never Kept a Gate
by PrincessPeace15
Summary: Paprika congratulated me for Perfecting all the games, and this one part stuck out to me. Certainly, what could guarding a gate have to do with rhythm? Maybe... it's not quite the rhythm I was thinking of? (Fair warning, this is a self-insert, rated T for cursing and so I don't have too many boundaries when writing.) (Going on an indefinite hiatus.)
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: Yes, this is a self-insert, but you know what? I need to keep my fanfic-writing spirit alive, so I'm doing it. I'm working on 100%ing Rhythm Heaven Megamix for the second time, and when I Perfected all the games, I noticed that Paprika said something like "That's a great feat for one who's never kept a gate." And so, the idea spawned. I'll try to update this every Sunday, for I've always kept a weekly schedule when it comes to fanfictions. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to read!**

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Paprika seemed to know what he was talking about in general. I mean, he'd been one of only three backbones for this entire operation. The Challenge Trains, the Perfect Campaign, the museum, the shop… all kept track of by three guys related by blood. No dumbass could even help pull that off.

Paprika had just punched a hole in the final unpunched box on my card, the card one held as they went through the Perfect Campaign and used to keep track of what games they'd done… well, perfectly. I'd now done them all.

He hole-punched it so surely, then… it almost seemed like he realized what he'd done, and the gravity of what it signified, and was left in a state of awe. He just… stared down at it for a few seconds, then looked up at me with the same expression.

In shock, he congratulated me.

But what caught my ear was how he said something along the line of "That's a huge feat for _one who's never kept a gate._ "

All that stuff about Paprika being competent goes to show how I knew he was being serious.

"'One who's never kept a gate'..." I repeated. "Is it a long process?"

"My brothers and I have been at it since we were little," said Paprika. "A lot more thought and endurance goes into it than you may think."

"And… does it improve rhythm?" I asked.

"It's tough to say," Paprika answered. "You watch people play our games for so many years, and your mind starts to pick up on the skill of rhythm. Saffron's the worst out of all three of us, though, and he's been doing this the longest."

"His eye's always on the coin," I replied.

"Yeah, that's it," Paprika nodded.

"...How does one get into the gatekeeping business?" I asked.

"You could do what we did and guard your house's front door, then randomly get told by some agent that they could hire you to guard more important gates," Paprika shrugged. "To be real honest, I couldn't tell you."

"I'll ponder it, though," I said.

I took the Challenge Train card out of my pocket. I only had one more track to go: Copycats, in Paprika World. I then got my wallet out, dug into it, and placed five coins on the counter.

"I'll have another go at Copycats before I leave," I told him.

"Hold on for a moment," Paprika asked of me.

He then reached down under the counter for something. I heard a zipper, some rustling, and another zipper before he held up his New 3DS XL, whose Streetpass light was a bright green.

"Could this be you?" he asked. "I'd been wondering since you got here today."

"It… could be," I replied, getting out my own New 3DS and finding that its light was also green.

"It's lonely here," said Paprika. "And I don't believe you and I have faced off at Figure Fighter VS yet."

"That, we haven't," I said with a smile.

"In that case," Paprika smiled back. "Before you go, let's do this."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: Yes, this is late. It was both my fault and because of issues with document uploading.**

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The next week, I found myself stationed in front of an old rusty gate to a small cemetery near the edge of town, tears leaving my eyes and my face as hot as a magma ball.

My, it hurt to be alone. It felt like something had been ripped from my heart, leaving an aching burn in my chest.

It wasn't even my losing him, the boyfriend I'd had for the past few months until now, that bit so badly.

It was my, once again, being left behind to rot.

...His name was Harold. We'd met by happenstance within a community college on a bright day at the start of February. From our first words to each other, I immediately assumed he was a sweetheart. H-He just seemed the type! He had a bright smile, sparkling eyes, and an untold ambition that I could immediately hear in his voice.

We met up each weekday after that, usually in the same spot. Within a week, we were greeting each other with hugs. And within two weeks, something in that smile pulled my heart in by its waist and kissed it with an ethereal passion. I'd fallen, and I knew it.

Took seven months for me to find out he felt the same way. The memory of our first embrace with _that_ knowledge… what once was probably the happiest memory in the book now was a sort of devastating humor to me.

Three months after that, he disappeared. He'd said he needed to be alone to think about something.

Oh, he thought it. He was quick to come over to my house in the dead of a winter's night, sit me down for a conversation, and tell me he didn't think he could have a meaningful relationship with me. Caught in a loop of shock, I agreed that he could do whatever made him happy. And, I mean, I still had that sentiment. Nothing worse than making someone unhappy in my book.

It's just… he heard my agreement and immediately walked out of the house, not another word to be said. Nothing of why… what part of my future clashed with his in such a devastating way… what was _wrong_ with me, maybe…

I didn't see a trace of him again.

And now, in a desperate need to escape that wooden enclosure, I took a walk out here to the cemetery.

I was holding back my tears as best I could because I refused to be anything but strong. Even in the most isolated of places, I always felt like there was some sort of presence judging my worth. I suppose you could say… I was watching me everywhere I went.

So my mind was searching for literally _any_ sort of distraction. After all, the toxic memories couldn't blow away like a newspaper on the ground if I was standing on them, right? I knew life was good, but… I needed a reminder. Literally _anything_ of substance would do.

So I saw the gate. A black, metal gate. A rusty gate, so rough that parents scared their children with talk about tetanus so they wouldn't go near it.

With this gate's decrepit state in mind, I looked over it to the graves and wondered. How long ago had the most recent… er, _addition_ to the cemetery come along? Who's to say they didn't quit bringing the dead here decades ago?

...Gates… Some people guarded, or "kept" them for a living. Like a housekeeper keeps things spiffy, were gatekeepers required to keep gates in shape?

If that was the case, whoever was in charge here was pretty shitty at it. If nothing else, it was a distraction, so I stood guard at that gate. If I had the right materials at all, I would have been hard at work ridding it of all the rust, but alas, I did not.

I didn't know what I was looking for. Evil villains in labcoats or long capes? Douchebags trying to dig up the graves?

Hey… these thoughts were invigorating! I felt a sudden sense of confidence and mentally prepared myself to fight someone epic as that. Yeah, imagine me, fighting off an evil mastermind with nothing but the brain in my head and the reflexes in my body. That'd be something else!

"What're you doing out here in the cold, kid?" a voice asked me.

So lost in my thoughts, I interpreted this as a threatening voice, so I was quick to spin around and look at the person.

Paprika?

"Er… keeping a gate?" I answered quietly. "I guess?"

He only looked more confused and didn't say anything for a good five seconds.

"...And why do you look like you've been crying?" he finally asked.

Shit, I let my guard down, didn't I?

"Er, a… a… breakup," I said.

"You can't be serious," Paprika replied. "That's awful. What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

...No, no, my chest was getting tight again! Come on, me, be strong!

"I… don't know," I answered truthfully. "One night, he just disappeared, and a few nights later, he came by and told me we wouldn't work. Then just… left."

"Scum," Paprika growled to himself.

"...Hey, aren't you usually at work?" I asked, immediately hoping he wouldn't think I wanted to be left alone. I'd finished that "want to be alone" phase, and it was now quite the opposite.

"Nah," Paprika answered. "I guess there's a huge blizzard coming in, so we all decided to close the joint."

Blizzard. That meant I'd have to go home, didn't it?

"...So..." I said. "Am I doing it right? ...Gatekeeping?"

"Well… you've got idling down," said Paprika. "I'd personally bring some stuff to get the rust off of this thing… and when someone comes by, you're supposed to be all threatening and encourage them to take on your challenge, which… I guess you don't really have one, do you?"

"No," I sighed.

Paprika merely sighed in response. It took a few seconds for him to speak.

"Are you… serious about this?" he asked.

"What?" I asked. "About what?"

"Keepin' gates," he said. "Because if you are… I could give you a few pointers."

I could only stand and think.

"I'll let you think about it," said Paprika. "I'll warn you right now, though, it can get pretty boring. Honestly, I don't think I'd be doing it if my brothers weren't with me."

He took one glance at the clouds coming in behind me.

"Come on," he insisted. "We gotta get back to our homes."

"Yeah," I said with a sigh.

As it would turn out, the Trio lived just down the street from me, so most of the way back, we walked together.

I still remember what he told me before he went into his house.

"I'm proud of you for completing all the Challenge Trains and everything, but… it's been lonely. Don't be a stranger. Come visit sometimes, okay?"

From there, certain neurons were firing in my head, making connections… wondering if maybe, Paprika was the elder brother I'd never had.

That… gatekeeping…

My shock from the breakup sorta blocked some of my inhibitions out, so… maybe gatekeeping wasn't such a bad idea?


End file.
